


Be Of Good Cheer

by loopyzoop



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Hogwarts Professors, I don't know how this got so fluffy, M/M, Professors, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 06:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13117734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loopyzoop/pseuds/loopyzoop
Summary: Draco never decorates his classroom, unless a certain git forces him to.





	Be Of Good Cheer

**Author's Note:**

> This is a GWB discord secret santa gift for the lovely Philippa, who requested some drarry professors AU. I apologize that this is basically just a sappy fluff pile, I did try my best, I hope you like it and happy holidays! (Also at this point everyone should know that I love writing Christmas things)

“It’s Friday.”

Draco’s gaze did not stray from the pile of dismal tests in front of him, and his eyebrows threaded together in his focus. “Hm,” he hummed noncommittally, and picked up the piece of parchment he had been marking. A look of pained disappointment crossed his face. “He’s said a bezoar comes from a pig. A _pig_.”

Harry was standing between the rows of tables, looking back and forth around the room. He frowned. “It’s Friday!”

“And?” Draco mumbled, circling something quickly and aggressively. “If you’re here to inform me that you’ve mastered the use of a calendar, I’m afraid I won’t be stroking your ego.”

“It’s Christmas hols,” Harry said. “Where are your decorations? You said you would.”  
  
“At no point did I mention anything about decorations.”

Harry leaned against a table, attempting to mask his frustration. “It was implied.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up as he pushed himself back from his desk carefully. “I’m afraid I missed that particular implication.”

“Then I’m decorating,” Harry said simply.

“The Great Hall has enough cheer for the rest of us, I don’t need you attacking my classroom, thank you very much,” Draco replied, sitting up straight at the challenge. There was a shadow of a smirk playing at his lips.

Harry moved closer, giving his most convincing, innocent smile. “Come on, Professor Malfoy,” he began, knowing that Draco thought it was endearing when he was overly formal, “it could be fun. Some decorating, some music, some egg nog… I promise I’ll get the good rum. What d’you say?”

The blond mulled this over for a moment, leaning back in his chair and huffing. “I suppose. But you’re not singing, you’re a terrible singer. I’m certain I bled from my ears last time.”

Harry grinned and shook his head. “If I can’t sing, then I’m dancing,” he replied with a quick wink. Before Draco could argue he had spun on his heel, and strode from the classroom without so much as another look back.

 

-:-

 

That evening brought snowy gusts that echoed through the near-empty castle. The vacancy of the school was unnerving, the air unseasonably chilly — even for December — and Harry snuggled deeper into the warmth of his wool sweater. On his trip to the potions classroom he felt a surge of confidence, positive that all of the cheery items he had gathered would certainly sway Draco.

This thing with Draco had begun mutualistically. Harry took up his position at Hogwarts two years ago, and he was nervous, hopeful, and frankly a bit unsure of himself. Hogwarts from a professors standpoint was a whole new world. There was still the familiar comfort of home, but Harry felt lost, without being surrounded by his friends that he could confide in. Most of the professors were fairly old, some of them still the same from Harry’s time at school, but there was one young professor that had caught his eye from the first meal in the Great Hall.

Sure, Harry had known that Malfoy had taken over Potions. It had been slapped across the Daily Prophet for weeks the August he was hired, but it hadn’t really sank in for Harry until they were side by side, eating meals together, and finally Harry broke the silence. Their need to speak to anyone drove it forward, and Harry learned that Malfoy had actually become quite tolerable since their Hogwarts days. Days bled into months, and Harry slowly discovered more about the other man than he had ever expected to. He listened about Draco’s nasty breakup with Astoria, the loss of his father, and how he had finally come out in the year following. He learned how Draco had found his way into teaching and he could hear how passionate he was about his job, how he really loved it.

Then one night, following a hideaway dinner in Professor Malfoy’s office and too much red wine, Harry kissed him.

Really, it was a lost cause from there.

It was no surprise, then, that he felt a ridiculous and absolutely silly flutter in his chest when he rapped on the door, pushing his way into Draco’s quarters with a lopsided grin.

Draco was perched in his favourite armchair, and he glanced up as Harry entered. His hair was slightly mussed and his tie undone, which just so happened to be one of Harry’s favourite looks.

“I’ve brought rum,” Harry announced.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I should hope you brought egg nog as well.”

“Don’t worry, I thought of everything,” Harry said with a laugh, crossing the room and pulling the blond up by the hand. “Let’s get to decorating.”

Harry led Draco to the classroom. A box was tucked under his opposite arm, and he could tell that the other man had tried more than once to get a peak at the contents inside. Harry kept it close to his side and purposefully walked in front until they arrived at the dim Potions room.

Harry lit several candles, charming them to levitate throughout the class as they worked. “Music?” he offered.

“Is it good?” Draco shot back with a raised eyebrow.

Harry shrugged and grinned, “It’s yours.”

“You stole my music?”

“You’re always trying to pawn your records off on me to _give me culture_.”

Draco snorted. “And it hasn’t worked yet.”

Harry placed a record carefully atop the gramophone that sat in the corner of the classroom. Draco often played music during work periods, which Harry remembered as being eerily silent during his time with Snape and Slughorn. He liked the change, however. It gave the class warmth, and life. The soft sounds of violin and piano filled the room, and Harry summoned two crystal goblets from the cupboard. He eyeballed a shot of expensive rum and filled the rest with the egg nog, passing one to Draco. “Cheers.”

The twitching sideways smile that Draco always tried to push back appeared, and he clinked their glasses. “Cheers,” he replied, then took a swig. “Decent.”

“Mm, I told you,” Harry took another long drink before setting his glass atop a desk. He bent down and rifled through the box of decor, emerging with a bright red santa hat.

He turned, causing Draco to take a nervous step back. “Stop that.”

“It’s for you!”

“It certainly is not.”

Harry cornered him quickly, and although Draco put up little resistance as he forced it atop his head, he still frowned deeply as he adjusted the cap. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Here,” Harry ignored the comment and thrust a garland into the other man’s arms. “Help me hang this.”

They worked together surprisingly well — they always seemed to — and it wasn’t long before the classroom began to pick up the Christmas spirit that it so desperately lacked. They also worked their way to the halfway point of the bottle of rum, which had them both feeling pleasantly tipsy. Their unabashed laughter and chatter filled the room as the night wore on and the wax of the candles dripped, the wicks of which had burned down by the time the clock struck midnight.

Harry’s throat felt impossibly dry in that moment as he caught sight of Draco, decorating diligently with a flush to his face and his hair completely untidy. His sleeves were pushed up to the elbows, his tie forgotten altogether. No one ever got to see Draco like this, except for Harry. It was _special_ and he knew it. It made Harry’s heart thud against his ribs and he tried desperately to hide this sudden drunken realization, blinking it away.

“You know,” Draco said breathily, completely unaware while levitating a wreath to a particularly high point on the wall. He ensured it’s placement with a sticking charm. “I don’t hate Christmas. But the bigger of a fight I put up the better the alcohol you bring me. And you get nicer.”

“I know,” Harry replied, pushing Draco’s hand and wand down from the air.

“Did not.”

Harry grinned. “Did so.”

The blond pouted childishly, which was something that only really occurred when he was sleepy or drinking, and he was probably both at that point. “I’m aloof,” he argued.

“Right,” Harry said with a laugh. “Anyways—,”

“I am! I’m sneaky, I’m mysterious, I am…”

“Going to catch a hex if you don’t let me talk,” Harry held out a careful hand. “May I have this dance?”

Draco looked down in confusion, before giving Harry a slow smile and taking the hand in front of him. “I suppose. Don’t step n’my toes.”

“Never.”

Harry pulled other man flush against himself, spinning him and stepping in time to the music. He had gotten considerably better at dancing since Draco, and most of their late evenings in their offices resulted in them swaying together, wrapped up in each others arms like a safety net. Occasionally Draco complained that Harry never let him lead, or stomped on his feet, or had dastardly taste in music, but somehow they always ended up the same way.

He leaned his head against Draco’s chest and smiled. He could smell pine needles, the cologne that he loved, and a vague whiff of egg nog. Finally he let his gaze drift up, and found Draco was already smiling down at him. Harry found himself staring at the flecks of blue and gold in his eyes, which seemed to distract him, to captivate him, to pull him in.

Harry swallowed hard, attempting to gain his voice back. “So.”

“Hm?”

“Is it safe to say you like Christmas now? Just a little bit?”

Draco laughed — Harry’s favourite sound, he decided. “I’ve always liked Christmas,” Draco replied, leaning in so close it caused Harry’s breath to hitch. “I just like it far better now.” With that, he kissed him softly, and Harry found that he had to agree. 


End file.
